


Favourite Places

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo wants to see where Phasma likes kisses the most.





	

His Captain loves kisses. To be fair, she loves _most_ touches, but she reacts most strongly to his lips on her skin. When Kylo realised that, it was the start of something. Something… frankly wonderful.

She lies on the bed, naked and soft. Warm from an indulgent shower at the end of the day, with her hair lightly inking water-marks onto the pillowcase. She lies where he put her, with her hands palm-up beside her head, and a whispered request to stay still. She obliges, though she looks at him through confused lids and lashes. 

He kneels beside her, supporting his weight on one hand and trailing drizzle-soft kisses across her brow from one temple to another. It wrinkles in confusion, and he pushes those lines away with loose lips. Down, down to the edges of her eyes, across the ridge of her skull, over the bridge of her nose. Down each side of that triangular edge, and over the lightly squishy cheeks. She tastes of the soap he uses, and her little suppressed giggles are… damnit. They make his insides wriggle.

Down to that very soft space under her jaw, up behind ears. At the edges of lobes, and into the curves of her collar. She likes those, and her hands reach before she remembers to lower them. He kisses her hard in response, and then trails over her shoulders. Down her arms, feeling the thick, corded muscle there. There’s not a single ounce of unnecessary woman, and he appreciates how she could snap his neck in her elbow if she wanted to (and he let her). Lower, to her wrists. Sealing his lips there and sucking at her pulse, making her fingers flex to touch his nose and smile. He kisses into her palm, pushing her fingers out. Down to each tip, and she’s moaning his name. 

Patience, he thinks. Patience. 

Across to the other side, and a tongue finding the edge of a fingernail. Sucking at the meaty base of her thumb. Nosing his way into her heart, before he goes back up to her sternum. 

She doesn’t ask, but her hands find his hair. He likes the contact, so he does not complain. Down between her breasts, and under. Teasing, but not giving her the touches there, not yet. Not until her hands beg, and even then not right off. His kisses swirl around her sides, up and down her curves, until he finally kisses a tight spiral towards the core of her breast. He tugs the swaying flesh up, then lets it drop down with a wobble. Harder, harder, and then he’s laving over her nipples between his kisses. Her hands grip harder, and he slows. Lighter, and he speeds. She begins to realise, and he smirks as his mouth travels south. Down over skittery skin that must tickle, kissing around the dip of her navel and laughing as his head is pushed lower.

She’s ready, but he’s not. 

He lets her move his head to some extent, but only so far as a hip-bone. His mouth plunders that for what feels like a millennium, but then he parts her thighs and kisses the soft, peachy skin between. Up and down, to knees and back. Around and over to the outside of her legs, and then back to her lower belly. She’s trimmed neatly, but still very involved. Only a glancing kiss to her sex, then he shoves her wider and bends her double. 

Phasma hisses in shock, but then he’s kissing at the edge where ass meets leg, in a straight line below like he’s chasing a stocking-line. All the way to her calves and ankles, and his nose rubs as he keeps his attention low. 

“Kylo…”  


“Soon,” he says, and rubs his cheek to her knee. “Have to kiss you all over to find out what you like the most.”  


“The bit I like is you,” she points out, smiling shyly.  


“So… no preference where I put my mouth?”   


“I wouldn’t say _none_ …”  


Perfect, he thinks, and surges up to kiss her properly. 


End file.
